A girl dressed in lace,
Green buds sewn into sleeves of emerald,
Gave the child queen scales she didn't wear.
It was a funny little ruse,
Placed with kindness.
Unlike the vines coiled around her insides,
Tightening around her legacy,
Implanted by a caring person,
She trusted to protect and serve.
Her trust was betrayed by agony,
Nights spent clutching onto the world,
Trying to hold on while,
Those seeds replaced her own.